by Sarah Morgan
‘Leave it,’ Daniel said softly, lifting a hand to his brother. ‘Alfie, what exactly did Stella say?’
‘She didn’t say anything. I went over there to just hang out, like we always do…’ Alfie sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve ‘…and then I saw all this job stuff all over the table. And she was filling out forms. And she looked really sad. When she opened the door her eyes were all red and funny and I knew she’d been crying, but she said she was fine.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘She made me hot chocolate with marshmallows and cream.’
‘No, I mean…’ It was a struggle to keep his voice calm. ‘How did you find out she was thinking of leaving? Did she say something?’
‘I asked her about the job and she said she couldn’t stay here and I said why not, don’t you love us, and she said, yes, that was the point, she loved us too much and it was all too hard or something weird like that.’ Alfie sucked in a breath. ‘And I said she ought to marry you, Uncle Daniel. And then her face went all funny and she said that you didn’t want to marry anyone and you don’t want kids and she does.’ His face crumpled. ‘Why don’t you want kids? Is it our fault? Were we bad? Don’t you like us any more?’ He started to sob and Daniel tugged the boy into his arms.
‘I love you, Alfie,’ he said gruffly. ‘You know I do. And you weren’t bad. You were fantastic.’
‘So why don’t you want any of your own? Don’t you love Stella?’
Patrick sighed. ‘OK, enough. Alfie, this stuff is complicated and it’s private. It’s between Stella and Daniel—you can’t interfere. I know you think you understand but, believe me, you don’t.’
‘But she’s sad and I want to help.’ Alfie wriggled out of Daniel’s arms. ‘That’s what friends do, right?’
‘Yes,’ Daniel said gruffly. ‘That’s what friends do.’
Stella was taking another job? She was leaving?
‘If you loved us, you’d marry Stella so that she wouldn’t have to go away and then we’d all be together.’ Alfie stared at him accusingly and Patrick intervened again.
‘I said enough. Alfie, you have to let Daniel and Stella sort it out by themselves.’
‘But Stella is going to go away, and she loves Daniel.’ Alfie stared up at Daniel accusingly. ‘Why don’t you want kids? Did you hate looking after us?’
‘No. I didn’t hate it.’ Daniel ran his hand over the back of his neck. ‘But it was a big responsibility and I got to hand you back after four days.’ Sensing that his relationship with Alfie was going to be seriously damaged if he didn’t give a proper explanation, he chose his words carefully. ‘It isn’t about not wanting kids, Alfie. But having kids is a huge thing. It’s an important job—the most important job. If you get it wrong, you can really mess up someone’s life. Do you understand?’
Alfie shook his head. ‘No. I know your mum and dad always argued. And they didn’t do any of the fun stuff at Christmas. Dad told me. But you’re not like them. You and Stella are great. And if you have kids, it wouldn’t be like that. You’d be a great dad.’
Out of his depth, Daniel looked at Patrick. ‘Say something.’
‘What?’ Patrick folded his arms, his expression implacable. ‘I happen to think that my son is talking sense. You would be a great dad.’
Realising that he wasn’t going to get any help from his brother, Daniel let out a breath. ‘I’m afraid that if I have children, I’ll mess them up,’ he confessed in a raw tone. ‘I’m scared that I’ll get it all wrong. Like I did when I looked after you and Posy.’
Alfie frowned. ‘You didn’t get it wrong.’
‘I scratched your favourite DVD, I broke your toy car, I let Posy have juice on the sofa.’ Daniel waved his hand. ‘The list is endless. Do I really need to carry on?’
‘That’s the first I’ve heard about the juice,’ Patrick muttered, but Daniel and Alfie ignored him.
‘Kids don’t care about that sort of thing.’ Alfie’s eyes were wide as he stared up at Daniel. ‘Grown-ups don’t have to be perfect. We don’t need grown-ups to be perfect—we just need them to always be there and not go away. And you were there. When Posy was sick, you were there. You took time off work to watch cartoons with her and I know how boring that is because she only likes baby stuff. And when you broke things, you tried to fix them. And when it all went wrong and it was hard work, you were still here. You didn’t go away when it got too much.’ His voice wobbled slightly. ‘Not like Mum did.’
Patrick made a sound but Alfie was looking at Daniel. ‘And you hate cooking, but you did it anyway.’
Stunned by Alfie’s passionate speech, Daniel gave a crooked smile. ‘I burned your hand and I almost poisoned you.’
‘Don’t worry. I’ve bought you a cookery book for Christmas.’ Alfie scuffed his foot on the floor. ‘I’m sorry I shouted.’
‘And I’m sorry I upset you,’ Daniel said gruffly, pulling him into another hug. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Are you going to fix things with Stella?’
‘That’s enough, Alfie.’ This time Patrick did intervene. ‘Daniel and Posy have been making brownies.’
Alfie walked over to the table and stuck his finger into the mixture. ‘When are these going to be ready?’
‘When I put them in the oven,’ Daniel said roughly, ‘but don’t raise your hopes. You know I’m useless at cooking. They’ll come out burnt.’ He felt strange. As if Alfie had taken everything inside him, thrown it into the air and it had come down in a different pattern.
His mind racing, he sank down onto the nearest chair, trying to make sense of his thoughts. Of what Alfie had said.
Alfie reached across the table for the rest of the chocolate bar, spreading fingerprints over Patrick’s half-written cards. ‘Are you OK, Uncle Dan? You look weird.’
‘I feel weird,’ Daniel croaked, looking at his nephew.
‘You probably ate too much brownie mixture. That makes me feel weird, too. If Dad ever goes away again, you can look after me. That would be cool. What do you think, Posy?’
‘Want a cuddle,’ Posy mumbled, sliding off the chair and pressing her chocolaty face into Daniel’s trousers.
Staring down at the tangle of golden curls, Daniel felt humbled.
The children wanted him to look after them again?
After everything he’d done—and everything he hadn’t done—they still wanted him?
A lump in his throat, Daniel scooped Posy onto his lap just as the phone rang.
Patrick hunted for the receiver and answered it. ‘Yes—yes, that’s right. Two—a boy and a girl. They’re really sweet.’ He gave a thumbs-up sign to Daniel. ‘No trouble at all. It doesn’t matter that you’re ringing on Christmas Eve. No, I don’t think it’s weird at all. I’ll give you the address…’
When he put the phone down, he punched the air. ‘Yes-s-s. Someone is interested in the kittens. She’s coming round later.’ He slammed his hand against his forehead. ‘Can you believe I forgot to ask her name?’
Daniel just happened to be watching Alfie, otherwise he wouldn’t have seen his reaction.
The little boy froze and then slid off the chair, his cheeks pink and a look of guilt in his eyes. ‘I’m just going to go and squash my presents.’
Seeing that Patrick was distracted, gathering stuff together for the kittens, Daniel lowered Posy to the floor and followed Alfie into the living room.
‘All right, sport, tell me the truth—what’s going on?’
‘Nothing.’ Alfie kept his head down, dragging presents from under the tree. ‘Everything’s fine.’
‘I lived with you for four days. That was long enough for me to know when you’re lying.’
Alfie looked at him, anxiety in his eyes. ‘If Dad gets really, really mad with me and throws me out, can I come and live with you? I know your flat is very flashy with lots of glass, but I promise not to touch anything.’
‘Why would he get mad with you and throw you out?’
‘Because I’ve done something.’
‘I thought so.’ Daniel pushed his hands into his pockets and narrowed his eyes. ‘Tell me.’
‘That woman on the phone…’
‘The one phoning about the kittens?’
‘She wasn’t phoning about the kittens. Dad misunderstood.’ Alfie spoke in a small voice. ‘I sort of arranged something. For Dad. Only now I’m wondering if he’s going to be too mad to enjoy it. If he gets really, really mad, do you think he’ll take away my presents?’
Daniel grinned. ‘I don’t know. You still haven’t told me what you’ve done.’
‘It’s bad.’
Daniel shrugged. ‘As you keep telling me, no one is perfect.’ And that realisation somehow made him feel light-headed. Had he been putting too much pressure on himself? Had he created this image of perfection that didn’t exist? ‘You’d better tell me what you’ve done so that I can protect you.’
And then he was going for a long walk to think about what Alfie had said.
‘Why are we so busy? Christmas morning is supposed to be quiet.’ Feeling numb and exhausted after another night with no sleep, Stella picked up another set of notes. ‘Everyone is supposed to be at home with their families, enjoying themselves.’
‘It’s the “enjoying themselves” bit that’s causing the problem,’ Daniel drawled, checking a blood alcohol level and frowning in disbelief. ‘How can anyone start drinking at eleven in the morning?’
‘It’s probably left over from the night before.’
‘If this is left over from the night before, I’m going to be transferring the guy to the mortuary.’ Daniel strode away to see the patient and Stella stared after him, wondering when to tell him that she was applying for jobs back in London.
Or maybe she shouldn’t tell him at all. Maybe she should just quietly melt away.
She tried to focus on her work, smiling automatically at patients who wished her merry Christmas, trying not to let her low mood infect anyone else.
‘Stella?’ Towards lunchtime, the receptionist walked towards her, a pair of red antlers swaying on top of her head. ‘There’s a mother out there with a child who has stuck a Christmas decoration up his nose.’
‘It must either be a large nose or a small Christmas decoration.’ Daniel appeared from nowhere. ‘Put them in one of the cubicles. I’ll see the child.’
‘Great, thanks. After that, we’re going to gather in the staffroom and do the Secret Santa. We’ve got mince pies and champagne. No reason to starve ourselves just because we’re working.’
‘That’s just what we need,’ Daniel murmured to Stella. ‘Drunk staff handling drunk patients. The day is getting better and better.’
She managed to smile, but part of her felt hurt that he seemed to be in such a good mood.
Clearly what they’d shared the night of the Christmas party hadn’t affected him. He hadn’t been round to see her and at work he’d acted as if nothing had happened.
Which basically meant that nothing had happened, as far as he was concerned.
Just a bit of hot sex in the snow.
Trying not to think about it, Stella called the mother and child into the cubicle.
‘Honestly, I can’t believe this has happened.’ The mother was pink in the face and flustered. ‘I’m in the middle of cooking a turkey and I’ve got twelve for lunch—it’s such chaos in the house, no one noticed that the bead garland on the tree had broken. My father in law almost broke his hip, sliding across the floor, and we were all fussing about him when I realised that Oliver had pushed one of the beads up his nose.’
‘Dangerous things, Christmas trees.’ Daniel strode back into the room and crouched down beside the little boy. ‘Hello, Oliver. I’m Dan.’
The little boy looked at him. ‘I’ve got a bead up my nose.’
‘So I gather. I don’t suppose this was how you planned to spend Christmas morning. Have you opened your presents yet?’
‘My main one.’ Daniel pulled on a pair of gloves. ‘And what was that?’
‘A remote-control tyrannosaurus.’
‘That sounds pretty cool. Look up for me.’ Daniel adjusted the light. ‘There’s a chance we might be able to remove it here in the department, if it’s in the right position.’
‘We could always try the nose-blowing technique,’ Stella suggested, and Daniel looked at Oliver.
‘That’s not a bad idea. Are you any good at blowing your nose?’
Oliver shook his head and his mother rolled her eyes.
‘Usually he just wipes it on his sleeve. He holds the tissue, but he hasn’t got the hang of the blowing part. What are the other options?’
Daniel looked at Stella. ‘I could try a nasal speculum—or we could use gentle suction.’
Stella knew what he was thinking—that he didn’t want to send this child down to Theatre to have it removed under general anaesthetic on Christmas Day.
‘Let’s not abandon the nose-blowing idea,’ she said, kneeling down in front of Oliver. ‘Oliver, here’s what we’re going to do. You are going to keep your mouth closed and no matter what happens, you don’t open it. I’m going to press on the side of your nose and you are going to blow as if you’re a dragon making fire. Got that?’
‘A dragon making fire.’ Daniel lifted an eyebrow. ‘That’s a new one. What do you think, Oliver? Are you feeling dragon-like this morning?’
Oliver looked doubtful. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Imagine that you are going to blow the biggest, hottest fire.’ Stella stood up quickly and, using a tissue, pressed on the side of his nose that wasn’t obstructed. ‘Now, breathe in deeply and when I say go, you blow as hard as you can through your nose. OK. Go!’
Oliver blew until his face turned scarlet and the bead flew out of his nose and landed on the floor.
Daniel grinned. ‘For someone who doesn’t know how to blow his nose, that was pretty impressive. You no longer have any excuse for using your sleeve.’
The boy’s mother breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Thank you so much. I was terrified that we might actually have to stay in hospital and my husband couldn’t cook a turkey if his life depended on it.’ Still muttering profuse thanks, she ushered Oliver out of the room and Daniel looked at Stella.
‘I didn’t know that you were an expert on dragons.’
Was it her imagination or did his eyes seem bluer this morning? And his smile sexier? It was just because she knew that, in a few more weeks, she wasn’t going to be seeing him again. Her brain was storing all the details. ‘I don’t know much about dragons,’ she confessed, ‘but I’m well trained in useful children’s skills, like nose-blowing.’
‘Yes…’ He was watching her with a curious expression in his eyes. ‘When it comes to handling children, you’re a pretty useful person to have around.’
And that was how he saw her now, wasn’t it?
As a colleague.
‘Hey, you two.’ The receptionist stuck her head round the door. ‘Everything is set up in the coffee room. Secret Santa time.’
Secret Santa?
Stella’s heart plummeted.
Oh, God, she was supposed to be cheerful and festive and all she wanted to do was slink home and hide under the duvet.
‘Secret Santa. The moment we’ve all been waiting for.’ Daniel was so good humoured that Stella felt even worse. Normally he was dour and bleak at Christmas. It was a difficult time of year for him. But today—today was different.
He seemed light-hearted.
As if everything had changed in his life.
Perhaps he’d heard that she was thinking of leaving and was relieved.
She was astonished by how much that possibility upset her.
Suddenly the challenge of looking as though she was enjoying herself seemed like too much, but she knew that if she didn’t join in there would be questions. And she’d spoil other people’s fun and she had no wish to do that.
Hoping that she could keep up the act long enou
gh not to disgrace herself, Stella joined the rest of the staff in the coffee room, which was dominated by a ridiculously large tree.
Her low mood seemed to be in direct contrast to everyone else’s happiness. She tried not to think about the fact that everyone else had families waiting for them at home.
She tried not to think about Daniel.
There was much laughter as presents were exchanged and Stella dutifully handed hers over to the radiographer whose name had been on the piece of paper that Ellie had handed her.
Not wanting to draw attention to herself, she helped herself to a mince pie and nibbled one side, trying to look as though she was enjoying herself. And then she glanced towards Daniel and caught him looking at her.
For a moment they just stared at each other, allowing the conversation to wash over and around them. And then finally Daniel dragged his eyes from hers and focused on the nurse who was talking to him.
As everyone lifted a glass of orange juice in a toast, Stella mumbled, ‘Merry Christmas,’ and the sudden stinging in the back of her throat caught her by surprise.
So this was it, then.
The end.
She’d thought she had her feelings under control, but watching Daniel laughing with the rest of the staff was incredibly painful.
Next year he’d still be here, raising a glass with the staff.
Where would she be?
She didn’t know. All she knew was that it had to be somewhere far from Daniel but the thought of that made her feel sick.
How was she going to live without him?
How was she going to get through each day if he wasn’t part of her world?
She’d tried that before, hadn’t she, and her life had been flat and colourless. And it was no good telling herself that she’d meet someone else one day because she knew she wouldn’t. What she felt for Daniel was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. It was real. For her there never would be anyone else, she knew that now.
Horrified by that realisation, Stella melted out of the room and hurried down the corridor, frantically blinking back tears—refusing to let them fall. She knew that if they started to fall, they might not stop.